MALICE
by Lewis Carroll
Summary: Based on Lewis Carroll's 'Alice's Adventures in Wonderland,' the darkness that is Alice's sanity finally escapes.
1. An Introduction

**M A L I C E**

Based on Lewis Carroll's original _Alice's Adventures in Wonderland_ & _Through the Looking Glass and What Alice Found There_, MALICE tells the story 12 years after the conclusion of _Through the Looking Glass._

Alice—all grown up and a scholar at St. Agnes' School for Gifted Children—falls back into her childhood fantasies of neverending tea parties and dynamic characters, only to discover what she held dear in her innocence has now become twisted and evil. In this eerie, dark, Victorian tale of imaginary characters becoming real-life killers, Alice becomes destined to protect the oppressed from their oppressors and follow in and out of the two worlds through the windows of her own insanity. Was Wonderland only the imaginary creation of a daydreaming child, or is it the schizophrenic vision of a deluded adolescent?

This is the story of a young girl who never exactly stepped on the thin line separating reality from a world of busy bunnies and talking flowers.

* * *

**♣ An Introduction to Malice, Alice, the Cat, and an Invitation from the Queen of Hearts ♠**

The story begins its tale at St. Agnes, in a classroom of around 10 young girls all in proper uniform, looking gravely at their desks. As they write in their notes the algorithms for functions, finite structures and various geometry, a young girl sitting alone in the back corner is violently scraping 'a l i C e' on her wooden desk with a hand knife. Her name is unknown by all her classmates and even her teacher, and only referred to as, "Miss Liddell" if she were ever to be called by anyone. Her eyes are large and enchantingly dark, with hints of melancholy madness that can only be detected if one actually sets his eyes on hers.

Her elegant and long arms are scarred and scraped, bruised and slightly bloody. The fresh scars glowed like a stream of tiny rubies on porcelain skin, white like fresh milk. She is certainly an eye-catcher, as to think that a once curious little child grew up to be such a distorted young person.

Alice was tortured. Tortured by her own insanity that she never could tell the silly difference between reality and illusion. For instance, what could be that sparkly tower touching the clouds? Could it be the school's bell tower, or a hanging church in the sky, made of gold bricks and black chocolate? She never really knew and was too tormented to find out.

And why was she so tormented? One will never know, because once Alice hit adolescence, it is said she accidentally stumbled upon a man resembling the face of a young vampire, murdering another girl with a kitchen knife in an alley next to the school. She never confirmed it, but if one sit next to her as she sleeps, he can hear her speak (and loudly) about who did what and how he did it. One could sit there and listen as if she was telling a story. Quite dramatic for a story at that.

The horrific image kept popping in and out of her mind off and on again to the point where she tried to constrain herself into not thinking properly. And indeed, so it turns out that not thinking properly gradually became not thinking properly at all, and she very well became only a step apart from intense mental psychosis. And it is said that during that very phrase, the mind can do miraculously wonderful things with numbers and shapes. So dear Alice almost incredibly could visually see numbers like shapes.

As proof of that, if you ask her the _ln_ value of any number from 1 to infinity, she would answer quicker than anyone could add 1 and 1. She very well had an IQ exceeding 170 (as tested by her governess, although during those days there were no IQ tests!), and every school she was sent to all could not accommodate the rapid pace she was advancing at in mathematics. Poor Alice had no medium to express her insane genius, and, because no dean of any university in Britain would ever think of allowing a 10-year-old into their facilities at that time in history (or a girl, for that matter), Alice was stuck at St. Agnes until she turned the proper age of 16.

One afternoon, Alice left her classroom after three rings of the bell, and began walking blankly to the cloakroom to fetch her things. Only, where were her things? They were right next to Clarence Butler's, for sure, because she remembered the funny smell coming out from his coat. Someone stole her belongings! But why—as Alice's coat wasn't any different from any other average girl her age—she had never carried any money in her bookbag other than a simple sixpence. Small things like this made her wonder if perhaps the bookbag and coat just became bored and walked off, leaving poor Alice to carry all her books all the way in the windy weather. And windy it was, for it was almost minus two degrees outside, with the rain and all.

Alice stepped outside feeling rather miserable. It was no different from any other day. She saw girls like Mary Honeydew with curls in her golden hair almost floating down the street holding the arms of other girls like her, smiling as if the weather had no effect on the smile that she gave away so warmly. It made Alice feel slightly better. Slightly. She was on the verge of throwing her hand knife at the pretty Honeydew, because her smiles gave Alice so much of a headache.

Just then, a face out of nowhere popped up, its eyes sharp and very demonic, its grin eerie but strangely alluring. Alice would very well say it would resemble a cat's, except it was not a cat, not the least. It was more of an older boy, looking very charming and even prettier than the sweet classmate Honeydew, with curvy eyelashes and a sweetly shaped nose.

"How do you do," it asked.

"I'm very well, thank you," replied Alice.

There was a silent pause before the head said, "It's not very polite to not return the compliment."

Alice was confused, because as far as she was brought up the question of how someone is doing is not exactly a compliment in any manner whatsoever. So she replied, "I beg your pardon, I don't quite understand."

"Well," said the head, "if I showed enough interest to ask how you are at a time like this, is it not just as equal for yourself to return that interest? And of all creatures, I'd say it's quite safe to assume that it's a very good compliment to show interest in another creature. I certainly think it is."

It suddenly popped out a tail, from several inches from where the head popped from, and it swung it very seductively.

"You look much different from the last time we met," it said. And the head suddenly grew a neck.

"I don't think we've ever met before, lest I can remember. I do recall meeting a cat, if that's what you mean. A cat who appeared and disappeared just like you!" said Alice, pointing.

"How rude of you to point fingers, if we've never met before. That's not very polite," said the head that grew a neck.

'Oh, how it orders one around!' thought Alice. She shivered before walking ahead.

A couple minutes later after some frequent walking and falling into puddles, the head seemed to have disappeared along with its neck and tail.

It was a very odd moment indeed, because Alice felt for certain she was followed. At least she heard the footsteps trailing behind.

It was when she reached the front gates of the Liddell manor that she felt someone physical standing behind her, and why, it was the head she met before, except with a full body and a cat's tail. Its green eyes looked just as fearful, but with an insane twist to it, like a wicked cat gone mad. His hair - his very white hair - looked unstylish and absurd, layered into feathered strips and long at the front while it grew even longer at the back neck area. He even had whiskers! Whiskers indeed, on a human with features like that! Alice would almost describe it as a dark sprite from hell, with a cat's ears, tail and eyes. And oh, his nails! His sharp nails, black as sin and just as deadly. But in a certain, twisted way, he was almost femininely beautiful - yet definite that he is male, as he looked dashing and well refined in his black suit.

"You look almost exactly like a cat, dear sir!" Alice cried in surprise. The stranger only grinned in his usual eerie manner, the ends of his mouth stretching from one ear to the other. Alice thought he must have very stretchy skin, as it hadn't ripped from grinning like that so frequently.

"Do you fancy cats?" asked the stranger.

"Oh, I think they're wonderful creatures. My cat Dinah used to purr heavenly all the time at silly things, it was so pleasant to hear. She passed away quite sadly few years back, God rest her soul," said Alice.

"Correction, if cats have souls. You never know with creatures like them."

"But certainly, all creatures have souls! I asked the minister the other day and I can swear he claimed they did," said Alice.

"Swear indeed! You have such a peculiar way of speaking; I can assure myself that your manner hasn't changed at all."

The cattish man then turned himself around disappeared again for awhile, but then reappeared as a cat - a whole cat this time - carrying the same wicked grin and maniac eyes.

'That explains his odd features,' thought Alice. "You certainly do come and go."

"But you must wonder what I am doing here," said the Cat, "I'm convinced your curiosity died off quite much since then."

"You must mean the cat died. I should think it was Curiousity who killed the cat," said Alice.

The Cat suddenly extended his tail and handed Alice a telegram, sealed with a large red heart which read:

PROPERTY OF HER MAJESTY, THE QUEEN OF HEARTS

"Did the Queen really ask for me?" asked Alice, flattered. The Cat only grinned wider and swung his tail. "What is read only may sound established, but don't believe everything you read," it said.

"I should think so," said Alice, "but I must know, are you the Cheshire Cat I met back many years ago? You certainly do resemble him much, except for your color. If I remember correctly, you were quite brown."

"Things change," said the Cat, "time changes frequently but no one makes note of that. I only changed a simple color once and here you are seemingly discouraging it."

"Oh I needn't mean that! And how cats become so insulted over such petty things! You weren't like this the last time—"

"Time is never last, time is first. Foremost and always," interrupted the Cat. Alice then ripped open the letter, which promptly indicated that she was invited to a game of croquet at the Queen's palace.

Recollecting the memories of her dreadful experience the last time, she said, "I should think I would like to decline her offer. It was difficult the last—," she paused, "—I mean, it was difficult the first time."

"Difficulty is only in the mind. Challenges push one's limits," the Cat said again, "How do you suppose I managed to change from a cat to a person's body?"

"By borrowing it, I suppose?" said Alice.

"I would've done that, but frankly bodies are the most selfish things and decline to be borrowed," said the Cat, "I did push my limits very forcefully, however."

"They must be very tired — your limits, that is," replied Alice.

"From all that pushing I should quite assume they are," cried the Cat.


	2. The Garden of Malice

♠ **The Garden of Malice** ♦

Alice approached the front gates in a slightly timid manner this time, opening it just slightly to let herself in and the cat out. The skies were clearing and the icy rain gradually became hard rocks of hail falling from the blank skies. Alice hurried in and shut the front door behind her, shaking off the water from her naked arms. It was then that she noticed a small key sitting on the mantle, a note next to it, and a creature that looked like a toad croaking on top her very own music box.

'How curious,' she thought, 'I never thought the house servants would allow a toad inside. Perhaps it snuck in through the garden entrance.'

She took the piece of paper and opened it, but was disappointed when there was nothing written on it. 'Well it was certainly addressed to me,' thought Alice. Next to the toad was a tiny golden key, 'bout half an inch in size she should think. "Silly thing," said Alice to the toad, "Sitting there like that as if you have no care in world what's going to happen after I throw you out the window!"

Alice picked up the warty creature and prepared her usual toad-throwing position when suddenly, letters appeared randomly in purple ink across the yellow piece of paper she found next to the key:

"UT DA KEE IN OA ST UT DON TH W ICE"

… it began. It took another half an hour or so before it finished, which said:

"PUT DA KEEY IN TOAD STINK BUT DON'T THROW ALICE"

'The writer must've been very stupid,' thought Alice, 'Just look at the terrible grammar.' Nevertheless, Alice set the toad down and forced its warty mouth open and stuck the key inside.

'Like feeding it flies,' Alice thought. And indeed it was, because now a hundred tiny golden keys began to buzz around from out of nowhere, flying and buzzing like the most annoying insects Alice had ever encountered. Sooner or later, Alice managed to catch them all (with tremendous effort) and set them all inside the poor toad's mouth until it looked as if it were to blow up into chunks of slushy, warty meat. Gradually, stuffing the sharp keys into the podgy creature's mouth became somewhat a sadistic pleasure, and Alice became eccentric (more or less psychotic—as it is relative to everything), violently cramming the pieces of magical metal until the toad DID explode. It was a lovely site for Alice, as the color of blood thrilled her terribly. She danced like a ballerina, spinning and grinning from ear to ear, twirling under the flying chunks of wet reptile flesh. One of the eyeballs accidentally landed under Alice's dancing toes, causing her to slip carelessly and hit the ground with such force it knocked her straight into unconsciousness.

When she awoke, she was outdoors under a great willow tree. The skies were smoky grey, the grass covered in soot and plant debris. And yet, the silence was pleasant.

"I should think there would be _something_ here," said Alice, "All I see are a bunch of dying flowers and an already-dead tree. Not any different from the Manor."

Alice flopped right back into her laying position on the black grass and yawned. She would've yawned twice if it weren't for the continuous sulfur oxide gas that she inhaled. And for almost an hour she laid there, attempting to sleep like a child who went to bed after eating endless sticks of sugar canes.

"-c-h-i-l-d," muttered a mysterious voice from behind. It was a sweet voice, one that sings when it pronounces long syllables, if you can call singing speaking. Alice jumped up and looked around, however there were nothing but the swaying daisies, the roses and the old willow tree.

"Who's there?" asked Alice.

"You don't remember?" asked the voice.

Poor Alice was almost frantic at this moment; she did not quite fancy speaking to strangers with odd voices, and had a funny fetish with invisible things, as experienced previously by the appearance of Mr. Cat in the act before this one.

"What a peculiar c-h-i-l-d," said the voice again, this time a large daisy stretched over Alice's shoulder. "I shall think of the last time you ask that very same question."

Several roses shook in the nearby bush, the sound of childish giggles following their movements.

"I beg your pardon," began Alice, "but I ca'n't understand where you are."

The daisy leaned over further this time; its withering petals swaying as the wind gently blew it to caress the side of Alice's pale cheeks.

"Don't you recall the last time we spoke, across the fields over there, right before we were approached by the Red Queen?" said the daisy. "Oh!" cried Alice after a moment's pause, "If I do recall, you were so bright and beautiful then. I should think you were the prettiest flower I've seen."

As soon as she said this, several other daisies and roses began an outcry of jealous whispers. The daisy haughtily swayed by Alice's face again, "I recommend you don't speak such nice words, it brings up such malicious hate towards me."

"What cruel little darlings," replied Alice. She then stood up and dusted off the dirt from her skirt.

"Do you remember anything?" asked the daisy.

"Not much, actually. So much has happened since my last visit, I ca'n't recall whether the color of the sky was blue or grey," Alice remarked.

"It was blue. And it was the bluest of blues," the daisy weeped, "This garden used to be the prettiest of prettys."

"Prettys?" asked Alice.

"You know, gardens with creatures like Beautys, Daintys, Gracefuls, Lovelys …"

"And I should think they aren't here anymore?" asked Alice again.

"They've all left the country!" the daisy cried, "And why shouldn't they? If it weren't for my roots I would've done the same."

Alice looked around at the dying roses and withering daisies, concluding that this was the worst garden she had ever wandered (or suddenly appeared) into.

"It's terribly boring here," said Alice, "I think I'll look around."

Alice skipped along the cobblestone path in the garden admiring the dying plant life as any other person would admire any dead garden. The pond, on the other hand, was nothing but liquid mud with dead carcass of frogs, fish, and swarming with the buzzing of flies lusting in luxury. But Alice was pleased. Insane as she may, she certainly didn't forget the pleasure of a dead carcass sitting there so lovely.

Just then, a white rabbit appeared before her wearing a dress coat and a fancy pocket watch.

"What a curious little rabbit," said Alice. It looked rather shabby, as if it the poor creature had fallen down a hole. Did it ever bring back memories!)

She approached the thing as timidly as a girl her age could, barely making any noise other than her silent breathing.

"HELLO!" she shouted suddenly. The Rabbit literally leaped three feet in shock.

"What terrible manners!" it shouted.

"Oh I shouldn't think they were _terrible_," said Alice.

"Not terrible? Did you even hear yourself?" it cried, "It was louder than Her Majesty! And certainly you should know never to outshout the Queen."

"Well your ears are big enough to hear for the both of us," said Alice, "Goodness, they're so long."

The Rabbit took quite offence to this remark and angrily pulled back its ears.

"I'm going to knick you down myself if you don't move, I'm very late," said the Rabbit.

"Where are you heading?" asked Alice.

The Rabbit was furious, "None of your business."

"I'm merely asking, Rabbit. I should think one would at least have the manners to answer a question when asked," said Alice. Alice remembered a moment like this before. She let the Rabbit go at that time and had such a dreadful time trying to find it again. Never again, she thought, will she redo the entire _follow-the-White-Rabbit_ ordeal!

The Rabbit angrily attempted to shove Alice aside, but her size and certainly her fearful stance weakened the darling until it gave up entirely. Like a defeated warrior, it bitterly stepped down.

"I shall ask again," said Alice, now acting proudly, "Where is your destination and state every little word, in chronological order if possible."

"TheCount'smanorNoneofyournosybusiness," it muttered.

"I beg your pardon?"

The Rabbit tightened up a little.

"I'm delivering a message to the Count, in honour of the Queen of Hearts," it said.

"Is it an invitation for croquet? She does that often, I hear," said Alice.

"That's none of your business."

Alice grabbed the creature's ears and squeezed as hard as her hands allowed. "I should think it is!" she shouted.

"Bloody witch!" it cried from the pain.

"Witch?" Certainly Alice wouldn't want to be called that cursed word for anything in the world. Not for anything.

She let the creature go, with its ears crumpled, and demanded that she went with it to the Count's castle. Oddly enough, Alice never met an actual _Count_ before. How elegant!

"How does the Duchess do," asked Alice, "I recall her mentioning something about a Count before," (although she never has.)

"The Duchess is dead," said the Rabbit, walking (or rather, hopping).

"Dead?" Alice asked. The Rabbit refused to say anything else other than that, and the two remained silent until they reached the front of the castle, which was incredibly dark—darker than the usual settings, that is.

The two front gates were of cold iron and black as night. The top of the gates were spiked with deathful spikes, and looked like they were rusted with aged blood. The two long walls connected by the iron gates in the middle were of dark grey stone and royally carved with late 16th century gargoyles, all open-mouthed and appearing angry. There was no grass or any plant life, but lots of clouds – terrible storm clouds – that hovered and fogged up the castle from top to bottom. Several nocturnal creatures with blinding eyes were seen, making odd noises. The Rabbit began to hold Alice's dress tightly.

"It's not really a castle," said Rabbit, "It's a manor built by the Count."

"Tell me, dear Rabbit," Alice began, "Who is the Count?"

Rabbit stiffened a little, releasing Alice's dress and walking faster. He seemed hesitant to say, but said it because he did not fancy Alice's odd method of torture. "He's mad," it said, "He fancies dolls like you."

"Doll?" asked Alice, "Oh I'm not a doll!"

"But you appear like one. There aren't many differences you know, between a girl and a doll," the Rabbit said.

"Only I'm _not_ a doll," replied Alice.

"The Count needn't care, really. He takes them as long as you appear like one," the Rabbit glanced at his watch, "He'll naturally fancy you, girl or not."

However awkward this statement may sound to you, dear Alice really did resemble a doll. She had such lovely long golden hair you see, eyes as glassy and rounded like a cat's eye in the dark, lips as pretty as a painting by Monet, and that melancholy look mentioned before that really did make her look like a gorgeous porcelain figure you see in the lovely stores in London if one ever stood still enough. Alice, however, saw it very differently. China dolls and other porcelain dolls were occasionally considered haunted or held some witchcraft among her paranoia-infested relatives. Little girls who bought one never really played with it. Expensively bought, only to be put as display in a glass case as decoration.

"You persistent little creature— I ought to punish you—" said Alice, but the Rabbit had no chance to reply since the front gates suddenly opened.

And what a surprise came after that:

When Alice looked back at the White Rabbit, the creature was as bloody as ever, dead. Holding the bloody carcass was a dark creature with the eyes of a murderous demon, looking sad and melancholy as it licked the blood off its victim.


	3. Rabbit Ragu

♦ ** Rabbit Ragu **♥

"How is that possible, if I've been standing next to it this entire time?" asked Alice. The dead carcass looked like it was brutally slashed into strips of its raw meat, and reminded her of the time when her father took her to visit the town's butchery, where she first caught glimpse of a skinned rabbit being sliced into large portions.

"_Rabbit Ragu!_" cried a voice. Alice spun around, only to discover the head of a hog on the body of a disfigured turtle.

"Has fate brought you here or your own curiousity?" said the creature.

"I should think it was both," said Alice as she gave a small curtsy. She stepped back holding down her arms, glancing at the dead rabbit.

"Rabbit Ragu. 'Tis what the French call it," said the creature. "Do you remember me?"

Alice paused to think.

"Quite faintly. I recall a lion with wings, some porpoises, lobsters …" she replied.

The creature looked offended.

"You are quite thick as the rest of us assumed or else you would've remembered," it said.

Alice would've taken a strong offence to this remark if she weren't so confused at the present happenings.

"_Rabbit Ragu,_" the creature began to sing as it sighed so miserably, "_How tender and ripe your meat—"_

"Well he certainly must, or else you wouldn't've done such a thing," interrupted Alice.

"_—_little girls needn't interrupt so rudely," it barked impatiently. The creature hunched his sad head and reaching out to graze the iron gates with his demented fins. He sang:

_Rabbit Ragu  
Rabbit Ragu  
How tender and ripe your meat  
The Hare and Jack are on their way  
To anticipate your feat  
Yet they not boast  
As you are roast  
On top a greasy dish_

_'Oh my Oh my'  
The varmints reply  
'He certainly got his wish'  
For as you hid  
A wish you did,  
'That my meat be good to eat'  
The King and Queen were jolly and gay  
Your flesh so ripe and good  
That all who dined and ate would say,_

_'Finest of all food  
Is this Rabbit Ragu!  
Our bellies are fed and well  
As the Queen herself would tell  
To Wonderland her kingdom  
Of this delicious stew'_

_Your blood so sweet  
Your flesh a treat  
Rabbit Ragu  
Rabbit Ragu  
Your death hath thrilled our creed_

_Your blood so sweet  
Your flesh a treat  
Rabbit Ragu  
Rabbit Ragu  
Your death hath thrilled our creed _

The creature stepped down and began cutting the slashed rabbit's flesh into thinner strips, glancing at Alice with the most peculiar look on its face. "Mind you," it began, "little girls needn't fancy dead rodents."

Alice's face grew dark.

"Not dead rodents, sir, but bloody things I do fancy," replied Alice, intensely drawing in the creature's odd way of cutting, "and I assure you I am not little as I may appear to you, Mr. Mock Turtle. Time and experience has changed me plenty."


	4. What Nonsense

♥ ** What Nonsense **♣

After Mock Turtle departed with the slops of rabbit meat, Alice opened the iron gates and peered inside. Underneath a cloudy layer of fog, dead gardens and hovering shadows of unknown figures, she felt a heavy gust of wind hurling her away, as if forcefully pulling her body away from the towering castle-like mansion. As she walked past, the eyes of the stone gargoyles gave a small spark of yellow light.

"Fancy," said an echoing voice, "the daughter of Wonderland has returned to shine."

After hearing this, Alice looked up into the sky to see a long-legged cat perched high upon a stone statue of a large man wearing an even larger top hat. He wore a sinister grin, the kind that he gave in his invisible form before Alice reached this twisted location.

"Good day, Cat," greeted Alice, "It's a pleasure seeing you here."

The cat's body gradually began to disappear, limb by limb, then its full head, leaving behind its toothy grin.

"Pleasure not," it said, as its body disappeared, "since you won't be seeing me at all," said the cat. It stood to its full height, and Alice began to realize what a large cat it was.

"I shall go inside now," remarked Alice, not wanting to be offended.

"I wouldn't, if I were you," it said.

"But you aren't," replied Alice.

"Aren't what?" asked the cat.

"Aren't _me_," Alice barked. She crossed her arms.

"Of course I aren't _you_," the cat barked back.

"You are _you_ and _aren't_ me" repeated Alice, so the Cat would understand.

"I _aren't_ _you_ and I aren't _me_. If I are _you_ then am and were and _me_ aren't _me_ and were and then, and definitely not _am_," replied the Cat.

Alice paused to think. She never cared for grammar in her classes, and now she regretted doing so.

"I suppose so, because _you are_ Cat and _I_ _am_ Alice. Correct?" she asked.

"Can't remember?" asked Cat.

"Not too clearly. _Am I _what I am or are you? _Who _is Alice? I ca'n't recall anything ever since I came here. And the color of the sky should be blue— I think?" pondered Alice, staring into the skies.

The cat's tail began to appear, and it flipped towards one side while its body became that of a human, standing atop the strange statue. He grinned like any Cheshire Cat.

"You shouldn't _think _here. Thinking doesn't _work _here," it said.

Alice looked distraught; it was as if she had given all hope of making sense of her current situation and fell hopelessly upon her knees.

"Then what should I do, Cat? I am confused beyond all wits," she said.

The Cat tilted his boyish blonde head on the large statue.

"All wits are confused, you know. They're called _w_its because the 'w' stands for 'what'," said the Cat.

"What?" asked Alice, feeling absurd.

"Exactly."

"No, I meant _what_ as a question!"

"Of course _what_ is a question. It certainly refuses to be an answer," Cat replied, stretching his long arms cattishly.

'Ridiculous,' thought Alice.

"I questioned it myself one day, if you'd prefer proof—," began Cat, "'—_what_ is an answer?' – I asked, and to my surprise the answer wasn't _what_, it was the_ question's__ correct__ reply_. So I ask _what_, and _what_ says this: '_How o__ften I do use three words where one would answer – a thing I am always trying to guard against,_' as an answer? I should think of it as a refusal from a worthless colloquy, don't you agree?" said the Cat.

Alice stood up, not listening to the feline but glancing at the towering stone of a mansion, which was engulfed in layers of thick fog and embraced within the darkness under the smoky skies.

"I shall leave now. You are the most absurd animal I've ever met— a delirious babbling creature," Alice retorted, "You ought to be punished."

The Cat, now not really a cat but a tall boy with a sweetly shaped nose, jumped off gracefully off the hovering statue and plopped himself before Alice.

"If you think _I'm_ the most absurd, you should leave this place immediately," said he, grinning sinisterly, "Creatures often eat one other here, as you've seen already. Mock Turtle should be taken into his ends in a few moments, now that he's got the scent of blood over his muzzle. The Jabberwocky's lair is only a few blocks down the Count's garden, and it can smell a single drop of blood from miles away. It's got a knack for it, that creature. Unless …"

Alice stared at the boy in awe.

"So this is what happened. Goodness, I leave here for only a decade and look at the chaos! You're all resorted to eating each other. It's madness, pandemonium—" moaned Alice, now plopping herself to the boy's left and sitting her knees.

Suddenly, a voice echoed, whether from afar or right next to where she sat, Alice could not tell.

It spoke suddenly, "Do you see now? Do you see the connection between your froggy invitation and the darkness that is washing this land in its filth and demeanour?"

The thick veil of darkness was lifted, and soon Alice could make out a long, red body, resembling that of a gigantic chess piece.

"Don't doddle, sit up straight and give an elder some manners," barked the Red Lady, darkly.

Alice stood up, gave a brief curtsy and managed to shake off her previous frustrations as she greeted the large red chess piece.

"I am the Red Queen, Wonderland's last remaining royal. We've met before, you should recall," the Red Queen spoke.

And Alice certainly did recall.

"Your curtsy is all wrong!" the Red Queen ordered, "Do it properly, head low, knees bent, right leg first — that's left, _my_ left — heel _up_! Don't _dare_ lift that dress any further—"

Alice did exactly as told, and a pleased smile came upon the queen's face.

"You may say what you please, now that we've carried out our necessary introductory etiquettes," she said.

Alice handed the Red Queen the letter she received from the Queen of Hearts, "I've been given an invitation to croquet and I don't know what to do," said Alice.

Whether or not the Red Queen understood Alice's current position as a lost stranger in a world of carnivorous and cannibalistic creatures of all kinds, she certainly considered it logical for her to be given an invitation to a game of croquet, given that croquet is a favorite of the Queen.

"I want to absolutely refuse to attend," began Alice, "Croquet is a bore. I'd very much be honored to meet the Count instead."

The Red Queen glared into Alice's large eyes.

"The _Count_ …" muttered the queen as her face turned dark until it became black.

"I don't intend to be rude, but I'm very curious," said Alice.

There was a moment's pause until the Queen gave off hysteric cries of laughter.

"Ha!" cried the Queen, forgetting her own conversation etiquettes, "My dear, you must be very dull to not realize his purposes."

"Purposes?" asked Alice.

"What stimulates your curiousity, little girl? Is it the mystery at which surrounds its presence?" She tilted her large black head.

"I don't know," Alice responded, "He certainly wasn't around my last visit here. Things have changed very much, everything is different."

The Red Queen drew closer, her arms crossed, her eyes narrow.

"He was around during your visit the first time, little girl. The second time as well. He wasn't _himself _then. Perhaps in the form of his disfigured body? Perhaps. You've met him before, I assure you," replied the Queen.

She grabbed Alice's hand, taking the invitation letter. "I shall keep this for safekeeping. And so, shall you follow me to my castle, or would you stay here and continue with your misadventure?" asked the Queen.

Alice glanced longingly at the towering castle, with its nightly creatures and their sparkling yellow eyes, embraced within the fog and shadows of the darkness that surrounded them.

"Very well," said the Queen, taking Alice's silent refusal, "However, I shall warn you fairly: Never look into the mirrors. And leave as soon as possible before 6 O' clock, right before the second. Regret is an unnecessary inhabitant of the soul, I advise you to never bring it in."

With that, the Queen departed in a swift movement of a second, and Alice recalled the lady's rapid legs.

"Have I made the wrong decision, Cat?" asked Alice, staring into the empty direction where the Queen had sped off.

The Cat was nowhere to be seen.

"Haven't you always?" replied an echoed voice. And it certainly wasn't a friendly one.

**

* * *

**

**Author's Notes** (a breakdown of the 'answer,' 'what,' and the Mark Twain wordplay)

The dictionary-definition of an "_answer_" is "_a question's correct reply_." This definition is what the Cat refers to in his question to Alice, "What is an answer?" But there is another way of interpreting his question.

To make it more interesting—or just confusing—the Cat personifies the word 'what' into more than just an interrogative pronoun. Absurdly enough, 'What' becomes its own character. This 'What' is conceived by the Cat as a conscious noun or a subject in and of itself (for example, another character in the story) and could also be interpreted as what he is referring to when asking this question.

Subsequently, in his own answer, the Cat refers to a quote by Mark Twain, "How often do I use three words where one would answer—a thing I am always trying to guard against?"

Although used out of context, it works as a valid answer to the first interpretation of the question, which asks for the definition of 'answer.' The lexicon definition of answer is a "question's correct reply," which constitutes as three words. The irony is founded in the fact that Mark Twain was referring to his "verbose" writing tendencies with that quote, while what the Cat is referring to is the opposite. The lexicon definition of answer, a "question's correct reply," is in fact laconic, concise and succinct.

Furthermore, the word 'what' can stand as a question in direct reference to the word 'answer.' If you omit the first meaning and read it over strictly as a word used in questions, it is as if the Cat is asking himself. For example, "... So I ask what and What says this: '(quote by Mark Twain)' as an answer?"

The last line by the Cat ("I should think of it as a refusal from a worthless colloquy, don't you agree?") is in reference to the second way of interpreting 'what.' In this sense, the Cat thinks 'What_'_ is not giving a straight answer to his question and assumes it is even refusing to do so. This can also be considered as the literal _answer_ to the literal interpretation of the question, "_What says this ... as an answer_?" Accordingly, when that single quote alone is _literally_ comprehended out of context, it implies that answering is often prevented with three words (and three can be any number, just not an answer from Twain, or '_what_' as a personified word in this situation). The Cat, in contrast, considers this as a refusal and _not_ as the real '_answer,_' therefore not the answer to his question.


	5. Curiouser and Curiouser

♣ ** Curiouser and Curiouser **♠

Whether or not Alice recognized the voice calling from afar, she certainly had learned from her current experiences that all strange creatures she had encountered had still yet to devour her. So far, no creature had attempted to harm Alice, and she had thankfully taken this into her consideration. This time however, a large shadow appeared from the full light of the moon, one with the figure of a large beast and wings of a bird.

Said the dark voice, "I do think you recall who I am."

As soon as the source of this voice became clearer, Alice's tense body lightened and soon she approached this figure through the heavy fog as lightly as a doe to a blooming lake.

"I should think so," said Alice, placing herself next to the large demon, "And my, you've grown so old, sir. I haven't met anyone with so many gray hairs –oh, 'tis rude of me to speak with such raw honesty to such a fabulous creature." She made sure to clarify every word.

The large monster gave a slight if not non-existent grimace before lifting its magnificent beak.

"Indeed," it complained, "The life may last centuries, yet the hairs on my heads are fair and ages with the seasons," replied the Gryphon, "I suppose you've grown older as well."

"Indeed I have," shouted Alice, happy to see at least one creature noticed, "I shall become seventeen soon."

"What?" the surprised Gryphon began staring awkwardly, "Are you sure?" it asked.

"Oh by all means sir," replied Alice, "It's the only thing I recall since my time here, because my birthday shall be next week." Alice proudly flaunted herself before approaching the large Gryphon.

The Gryphon stretched his large wings and retorted some very vulgar remarks (omitted due to lack of point) before saying, "You must be incredibly dull. 'Become seventeen' indeed. How does one ever become a number? Seventeen may multiply like bloody rabbits, but they've no legs and arms like you. Silly girl."

Alice grew quite upset at this; she had not realised or even sensed that whatever situation she was in. She knew that there were no such a thing as calling oneself a number. The Gryphon's unfriendly mockings and insults made her somewhat vengeful.

"I must disagree, sur. Numbers drive me mad every evening, night and morning," she began, "They eat my brain every hour during Algebra— and Algebra can be very aggressive, you see. It's quite like my mind blindly falls into a pool of a generating world of fantastic equations— although rather empty sometimes— in random occasions they're terribly hideous, and with a chalk in my hand I enjoy beating it mercilessly until it becomes a simple line, its raw solution, quite like exorcising its demons and regurgitating a saint," continued Alice, "It's somewhat similar, won't you agree? That the numerical world is much like this one."

The Gryphon stared awkwardly once more, yet this time he was appearing somewhat confused.

"If anything, you certainly are motivating," it replied, "I would eat you up this minute if it wasn't for my lack of teeth," then he paused, "On and off with your nonsense!"

Alice didn't quite understand, as much as she desired to, for after all she was a newcomer in this dark world of ravaging creatures and chaotic communities. So why not join this tyrannical group of sadistic creatures and babbling royalties, what would stop her? Why not infuse her confusion upon someone else? Yet she managed to confuse herself again trying to do so, and Alice had founded another problem.

"If I may ask why you are here, sir? Are you here to visit the Count as well?" asked Alice, shaking off her confusion.

"I am delivering a message over there," he paused, staring at Alice suspiciously, "… to Sirs Mus Muris Dormio and Loon Hara, two acquaintances of the Count in which together shall entertain certain royals of the Queen during dinner this evening. Surely, you cannot enter because you aren't invited, my dear girl, but I shall inform the Count of your arrival some unexpected time tomorrow," said the Gryphon, "It is very much a highly regarded party."

Alice could not have felt any more agony for anything else at this moment; she had desperately seeked the Count for a reason that even her own mind was not aware of, and yet, there stood a great challenge that would prevent her from grasping the opportunity. 'If it would only realize how utterly important it is for me to see the man,' she thought.

"'Tis my unbirthday today," mentioned Alice.

At this notion the Gryphon suddenly began to show interest. "Is it? Good for you. Happy unbirthday to you, girl. Only I've no present for you, and it's getting quite late already," it said.

"Oh but you do have a gift for me, dear creature, with you right now. Although it is not in its prime state," replied Alice.

"Do tell, I haven't noticed," it looked intrigued, looking randomly over its body, "What is it? Is it purplish in colour? Is it It?" asked the Gryphon.

"What is It?" Alice asked in return.

"It is it, isn't it? Don't you know, you said so yourself."

Moaned Alice, "I was simply going to say that you may invite me to your dinner party, as my gift," now with only a sliver of patience. "It would be a lovely gift indeed."

The Gryphon suddenly jumped in surprise, with a glimmer in his eyes that looked as if he had thought of a brilliant idea.

"I've completely found my mind once more, for now, I've thought of something that may satisfy both our problems," it cried.

Alice looked at the Gryphon eagerly.

"I can invite you to the Count's dinner party!" it loudly offered, as if it was he who had thought of the idea. "Isn't it brilliant? What more a gift is desired than a visit into the Count's castle?"

The Gryphon struck open his majestic wings, with a look of pride on his face that inspired even Alice to feel proud of his suggestion. However, it was not his nor a matter of pride, and Alice found the situation confounding to her plan.


	6. A Stumpy Lesson

♠** A Stumpy Lesson **♦

It becomes a time in every child's life, to which she is no longer a child but the full measure of a person. A person, naturally, that when something terrifically ugly came in view of her sensitive senses, her emotions would stir and her mental juices would give off the scent of disdain and obnoxious detest. So had Alice, when she caught sight of the most curious creature, one missing an eye, and what seemed everything a natural creature would naturally have, for instance, its outer skin. It was very much a raw Stump, a bloody mold of flesh and muscle, with stubs of wet pink pulp as its limbs and various protrusions of bone—such as its skull— making through the muscle of his vaguely featured face.

Becoming gradually curious as well as gathering her growing surprise, she turned to look behind the shadow of the suddenly angry Gryphon, not considering the extent of her fear, for it seemed it was all too amusing for the bloody Stump to bear.

The Stump began to laugh at Alice's reaction and richly greeted the Gryphon with modest sincerity and jolliness that one would never expect from such a hideous subject.

"I've no words to say to you other than a simple adieu," responded the Gryphon, "We are oft into the castle's main grounds, and I am very aware of your banishment from these areas. However, due to pity for your current state, I shall spare you from the call of the Count's guards and allow you time to leave as quickly as your pulpy remains may carry you."

"Noble Gryphon," replied the Stump, "Along with your knowledge of my banishment you must also be knowledgeable of the reason to why such a cause was due. But before I mention any sorrowing lectures, who is this gruffly-looking creature behind you?"

With its one remaining, bloody eye, it stared intensely at Alice. 'Gruffly?' She felt insulted.

"Girl, you may introduce yourself," the Gryphon said.

Alice, surprised at the reaction of the Gryphon, did as told as any polite girl and gestured some form of a curtsy and mumbled, "Pleased," as gently as her lips could mimic. Yet it was not the sudden surprise of Alice's reaction that engrossed the attention of the Stump, but her peculiar way of standing as she attempted any sort of greeting to which would've made the Red Queen shutter in dismay.

"What is it," said the Stump, "that leads you to stand so confusingly as if your legs are tied in knots?"

Alice stumbled, falling forward and slamming on top the sticky ball of flesh.

"Oh bloody child!" cried the Gryphon, disgusted, "Can't you stand still for even the shortest of time?"

When Alice stood, her dress was covered in crimson bloodstains. "Bloody indeed," muttered Alice, now climbing onto the back of the Gryphon.

The Stump, also struggling to stand in its 'up' position, responded with a bitter grunt. "I say you ought to have your legs removed. Mother always said legs are useless when used improperly. Perhaps you should lend them away." He gestured towards himself.

"Come come, we've no time for chatter. The Royals expect me soon!" said the Gryphon.

"Before you leave, I entice a request to the young lady," the Stump hopped in front of the departing Gryphon, "A request in which involves the essence of completion. Girl! I cannot tell you now, but the Royals refuse to accept my plea, and I've no other way. Will you help me?"

Alice, from the back of the impatient Gryphon, stared curiously in silence.

"In a red room small enough to fit a mouse, at the Count's castle, there is a weapon," the Stump began.

"What kind of weapon?" Alice asked. The Gryphon began to raise its wings.

"A weapon harmful enough to strike down two foul goons. I will give no further explanation; all will be apparent to you once you see it. Nonetheless, you must use it to defeat two monstrous mates who guard the gateway. One hates singing but loves dancing, and the other loves dancing but detests singing. Remember this, as this tip will be the key to help you defeat them," shouted the stump in haste as the Gryphon belted out a loud gruff in impatience, "Be careful never to mix the two, or else you'll suffer exactly what I suffered! Defeat them, and enter the gateway into a long corridor where you will discover a hidden key. Find the key, and use it to open the hidden door, a hidden door in which you must find relying on your instincts and not your doubts. There through the door lies the Count's room of—"

"Nonsense!" cried the Gryphon, "We're getting very late indeed, no time for hasty chatter!" The Gryphon gave the Stump a suspicious look of warning.

He then flew up with the strength of a thousand men up into the skies. Alice, grasping the Gryphon's neck feathers for her dear life did not know whether to jump off and allow the poor Stump of flesh to finish his sentence or remain frozen in fear. The latter took effect, however, and soon Alice was freely high up in the dark skies, blinded by thick layers of black and grey clouds.

"Mr. Gryphon," spoke Alice, "if you would please, what is this hidden room that this Stump speaks of, and why won't the Count allow him inside? Have they a grudge? Oh I do fear now, what this Count should do if I present myself ill in his presence."

"You certainly will not! The wretched creature was not the result of the Count, but of his own punishment," replied the Gryphon.

"This task that he speaks of must be very important to him. I'm truly curious, I must say. And excited too, for the first time I should be attending a royal dinner! I've been practicing my greetings earlier with Her Majesty and—"

"Her Majesty? You're lying! Her Majesty would never approach such a dead castle, let alone a child like you," growled the Gryphon.

"Oh but she has! The Red Queen was very critical in terms of my curtsy. She mentioned my left leg was too obtuse and won't bend the right angle. As far as I know it wasn't that terrible," Alice said.

"Red Queen? The Red Queen should never, ever be called Her Majesty!" roared the Gryphon, now flying faster towards the main tower, "There is only one Queen and she is not the one, nor that miserable White Queen who claims the kingdom is rightfully owned by her fat and dull steed, who's nearly missing a leg. Now hear me, Her Majesty is not the most patient of all people and tonight whenever you mention anything other than her highness she'll have your head and eat it."

"Oh my. She eats heads?" asked Alice.

The Gryphon gave a look of utter disgust at her ignorance.

"Of course, you dumb girl! Why else would you think she chops them off in the first place? In the beginning it was purely for leisure but as the number of bodiless heads grew there became no places to place them all. The simplest solution is to suck the brain and munch the tender eyeballs, collect the skull and not let precious parts go to waste. Food is scare here as you should know."

"Indeed, I've witnessed the cannibalism recently …"

"It is your wit that keeps you alive here, do keep that in mind. No more ignorance!"

Finally Alice and the Gryphon landed in the large balcony of the biggest tower where they were approached by two card guards, a 4 of Spades and a 9 of Diamonds. "The Count has been expecting you," said the guards. "Wait," said of the guards, pointing to Alice, "Who is this? She wasn't invited, I haven't seen her at the invitation ceremony!"

"She has to leave, no invitation no invite!" followed the other guard.

"Well I can't leave now, it's much too high for me to go back down!" Alice cried.

"No invite! No invite!" shouted the guards, pointing their spears defensively. They cornered Alice to the very edge of the stone barriers, an inch backward and Alice would fall several hundreds of stories.

"Settle down! I can prove to you she was invited, I have the invitation right here proving Her Majesty's acknowledgement," said the Gryphon, reaching deep into his thick back fur. The guards placed their attention on the ruffled Gryphon, digging deep into his coat.

Alice, now feeling slightly safer, became aware of the situation and glimpsed towards the stalling Gryphon. It was a moment of ecstatic shock and an alert reflex reaction when Alice pulled the spear from the grasp of the Four of Spades and gracefully pierced it through both cards in a single thrust. A splash of bright blood splattered onto the blackish blue stone, and the two cards were perfectly pierced parallel to one another on the spear.

Alice set it aside and glanced at the Gryphon who looked rather unamused. "On to see the Count indeed," he muttered spitefully, "No manners at all."


End file.
